The sudden cough that tore through his chest burned, causing his eyes to water at the sudden harshness of it all. He rasped out a wheeze, but the forcefulness of that first cough caused a fit. Each breath pulled in was only pushed back out with a force that left the little apprentice shaking. He didn't fully know how long he stood there hacking his lungs out in a desperate effort to breathe. The collected ball of moss was discarded at his feet, a sign that Desertpaw had tried being productive before the coughing fit hit him. Finally he was able to get air into lungs, the gasp coming from him as his sides heaved proved that. The taste of iron on his tongue told him how hard he had been coughing, how raw his throat felt.
The cinnamon-colored tom wiped his bottom jaw with his left leg, hoping to wipe the trace of any residue of his coughing fit from existence. The last thing he wanted to do was worry Skywhisper or Lilypaw. He considered himself to be healthier than those around him, though if such a sentiment was actually true he wasn't sure. If the pressure on his chest and the sporadic coughing fits that plagued him were anything to go by he'd be sure that nobody would let him do anything. But Desertpaw didn't want to sit around being tended to. He wanted to help where ever he could and no amount of coughing would prevent that. "Ugh," He grumbled to himself as he pulled his leg back to examine the speckles of coppery liquid matting his russet fur together. He couldn't help the small frown that crossed his features that was shortly accompanied by a soft sigh. "I wonder how Dunepaw and Waxpaw are doing." He missed his brothers dearly despite having his cousin-sister with him he wanted to mourn with his brothers over the death of their parents. It was a tough burden to carry, knowing but being unable to tell his siblings about Goldenfeather and Dustwatcher. "Soon. They'll know soon because I'll get better and stronger."